


Nine Days

by LadiesSocialClub



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s03e07 Game Set & Murder, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadiesSocialClub/pseuds/LadiesSocialClub
Summary: What if all the subtext in Game, Set, & Murder was there, but wasn't the subtext we thought it was?  This is a take of what could have gone on behind the scenes that wouldn't have changed what we saw in the episode, but would make it take on a whole new perspective.





	Nine Days

Phryne Fisher rolled over and stretched as the sun filtered through a crack in the drapes. Her bright blue eyes drifted open lazily and took a moment to adjust to the dim light before settling on a pair of broad, strong shoulders.

She slipped over to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and slid her arms around his naked back. He had slipped in late the previous night after a late night of paperwork and she’d barely stirred as he wrapped his arms around her and fell right to sleep. Due to an unfortunate series of circumstances and scheduling clashes, it had been nearly a week since she’d felt his skin against her and she reveled in having him near her now.

“Where are you going so early?” she asked, her voice rough from sleep. The combination of the vibration of her voice against his back and her breath tickling his ear made him shiver.

“I need to get to the station as soon as possible,” Jack Robinson told her.

“But I had such delicious plans for you this morning,” she let her arms drift down his torso and her lips moved purposefully from his earlobe to his neck where she sucked ever-so-gently. 

Jack turned in her arms and kissed her deeply, using his body to push her back into a laying position. Her hands tangled in his hair and his fingers swept under the pale purple silk of her pajama top.

He pulled back with a wicked grin at her groan of protest. “As delicious as that sounds, Collins is due back on the job today and I really should be there when he comes on shift.”

She huffed out a noise of annoyance. “Be that as it may, Jack, it’s been six days.”

“That, Miss Fisher, just sounds terrible. I can’t imagine how a person can live for six entire days without sex,” he rolled his eyes at her as he shrugged on his shirt and began to button it. 

Truth be told, now that he’d had her, six days without her did feel like torture, it was the longest they’d gone since the night he’d turned down Concetta and showed up at Wardlow with a bottle of wine. No way was he admitting that to her, though. Let her think he was doing just fine.

“Well we can’t all be as buttoned up and repressed as you are, Inspector,” she pointed out. “But, if you aren’t interested, then I suppose I’ll just have to carry on with my delicious plans on my own.”

In a second he had her pinned back to the bed with his tongue plundering her mouth. 

She was panting heavily when he pulled away. He stared directly into her eyes, their mouths only a breath apart. “You go ahead and do what you need to do, but don’t ever, for a single second, think that I am not interested.”

Phryne blinked and he was back on his feet tucking his shirt into his pants and fixing on his braces. It took her a moment to regain her equilibrium -- it was astounding to her how a single kiss from those lips could untether her in such a way. She’d certainly never experienced anything like it before.

She watched him quietly as he finished dressing and styled his hair in her mirror.

“Have a delicious day, Miss Fisher,” he murmured as he leaned close and placed one last, lingering kiss on her mouth.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will,” she told him playfully. She made sure to spread her knees under the blankets when he looked back at her from the door so that he had no doubt that she was not planning on waiting another six days for some relief.

0-0-0-0-0

She watched as his long, gorgeous fingers fastened his Buffalo Bill pin onto the silk of her robe.

“But you’ll have to do,” he said.

The words were so reminiscent of the night when he’d brought the bottle of wine to her and said they’d have to make do with one another, that she felt her body immediately respond to the memory of the delights that had transpired between them later that evening.

Her hand darted out before he got too far and she pressed her mouth against his hotly. 

Jack hadn’t intended for anything like this to occur, but he couldn’t help it as his arms slid around her waist on their own accord.

Bodies pressed together, she pulled back the barest amount. “Come upstairs. Seven days.”

“I can’t, Miss Fisher. I’m on duty, and it sounds like I need to go question Frederick Burn.”

She groaned and moved away from him, putting some distance between them. “Fine, we’ll adjourn until tomorrow night then, I have my cocktail party tonight. Wait for me while I get dressed? Obviously you can’t go without your special constable!”

0-0-0-0-0

“Jack!” Phryne greeted happily as Mr. Butler showed him into the parlor. “Any developments?”

“Good evening Miss Fisher. Nothing of note,” he shrugged, joining her on the couch and accepting the cocktail from Mr. Butler.

“Will you be needing anything else, Miss?” Mr. Butler asked.

“No, that will be all. Thank you, Mr. Butler,” she smiled warmly at the man.

He gave a bow and retreated, closing the door behind himself to give them some privacy.

“Well I have some developments!” she told him excitedly and recounted her conversation with Constance.

“I think this may be the first time I’ve heard of a woman pushing her brand new husband into the arms of another woman,” Jack rubbed his eyes. He was tired of all of the lying and back and forth with these people.

“I, personally, can’t understand the compulsion to push one’s partner into the arms of anyone else,” Phryne said contemplatively.

Jack looked up at her and noticed that she was staring off into the distance, clearly lost in thought. He was reminded of her comment about Frederick Burn catching him with Angela Lombard. Was she, perhaps, actually jealous? That certainly didn’t sound like the Honourable Phryne Fisher, but he had to admit (to himself, anyway) that the idea of her being jealous made him feel warm inside. It appeared that she really did feel something different toward him than her typical love it and leave it mentality.

“Lets don’t talk about the case,” he suggested, drawing her attention back to the present.

“Wonderful idea,” she agreed instantly, her expression clearing and her eyes snapping to his.

“Instead, we could talk about how divine you looked into that dress for your cocktail party,” his voice lowered, caressing her in the most wonderful way.

Her eyes became dangerous in an instant as she advanced on him. She placed herself in his lap, arms around his neck, and fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck.

Jack was amazed, not for the first time, at how lithe she was and how quickly she moved. His hands rested comfortably on her hips, fingers wrapping around to brush against the globes of her ass.

Phryne leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, their breath mingling.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Phryne Fisher,” he whispered.

“Oh?”

“The black dress against your perfect skin,” his lips danced across her her collar bone. 

“The sight of your garter in the middle of my office,” he continued, the fingers of his right hand dropping to dance across her thigh in the very spot where the garter had been.

“The thought of your flawless thighs wrapped around me,” his voice was barely more than a rumble.

She felt herself melting into him. That. Voice.

“I wonder if perhaps we could make that more than just a thought,” she quirked an eyebrow at him and grabbed his tie, holding him close. Their eyes bored into one another, bright blue into dark blue smoldering together.

“Are you prepared? Perhaps we should go upstairs in light of your house guests?” he suggested.

His words were like ice on her previously red-hot desire. Are you prepared?

Her head dropped to his shoulder.

Jack was baffled but her suddenly limp body. He was extremely ready to finally have her body -- it’d been nearly eight days after all -- and now she was acting like she didn’t want him?

“Jack,” she groaned, in an entirely unpleasurable way.

“Phryne? What in the hell is going on?” he wanted to know, trying to look at her, but she was too resolutely buried in his shoulder for him to see her face.

“My internal device!” she exclaimed, sitting up to stare him in the eye.

He stared back, confused.

And then it hit him.

He’d watched as Collins had taken away her diaphragm as evidence. At the time he’d thought it was hilarious and it had taken all of his self control not to laugh at the horror on Collins’ face as he’d realized what it was. But now...now he was the one feeling horror.

“You...only have one?” he swallowed.

She nodded. “I take good care of it, I’ve never seen the need to have more than one at any given time.”

“I don’t suppose you have any other...methods?”

She shook her head.

“Christ,” he muttered. He’d never bothered to procure any preventatives, as she’d always had it covered and they had assured one another that they were healthy, so there’d been no reason to double protect.

“Not that intercourse is the only way to relieve our pressure, but I have to admit, I was rather looking forward to having you inside me,” she said.

His stomach clenched and he felt himself stir at her desire and the idea of being buried inside her.

“It seems you shared that thought,” she said, obviously feeling him beneath her.

“Ardently.”

They stared at each other.

“I say lets wait,” she said.

“Wait?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Obviously there are other ways to relieve the pressure, some of which are just as good as having you buried to the hilt inside me,” - he twitched - “but if we wait, just think how good it will be.”

“It probably won’t last very long if some tension isn’t relieved soon,” he told her.

“Time does not indicate intensity. But it’s up to you, Jack,” she shrugged.

He considered his options. He was leaning toward throwing her on the couch and pressing his mouth into her, when his body betrayed him and he nodded in agreement.

“Come to snuggle and sleep?” she asked, removing herself from his lap and offering her hand.

He nodded again. He took three deep breaths, willing his body to settle itself. Then he took her hand and followed her.

0-0-0-0-0

“Jack! Look how lovely you look in tennis whites!” Phryne crowed as she pranced down the steps to him waiting in the foyer.

“I could say the same of you, Miss Fisher,” he grinned.

“You’re in a rather good mood,” she observed.

“I have something for you, before we play,” he told her.

“Oh?” 

He held up a paper bag.

She took it curiously.

“That, is no longer evidence,” he told her as he watched her look in the bag and her entire expression change.

She flung herself into his arms. He caught her and received her kisses with happiness.

“Nine days. Never again, Jack Robinson,” she said. She grabbed his arm and dragged him up the stairs. Their tennis date could wait until they were thoroughly exhausted, for all she cared.

He was only too happy to oblige. Finally.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I haven't had any time for writing, but I was watching this while doing my law school work and it just came pouring out instead of the outline I was trying to work on for my criminal law class. *Shrug* . It's probably not the most polished, I wrote it in one sitting and revised best I could on tired eyes. I'd love to hear what you thought!


End file.
